


Invisible

by stone_in_focus



Category: Haven - Fandom
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Friendship, Gen, POV Duke Crocker, POV Third Person, Season/Series 03, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-05 01:13:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/717164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stone_in_focus/pseuds/stone_in_focus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One good thing about the troubles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Invisible

Somewhere, there’s a thread of irony in all of this.

Duke’s made a living off of being invisible. He’s no magician, but he knows how to pull a sleight of hand. He’s used to slipping under the radar and dealing under the table—when it strictly comes to business, “Out of sight, out of mind” is his motto, and what Nathan doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Well. Not  _too_  much. Gotta keep the chief of police sharp and on his toes, after all, and on Duke’s list of favorite things, pissing off Nathan rings in right below sex and an aged bottle of scotch.

‘Course, sometimes those favorite things land him in a jail cell for the night.

Which brings him back to his original point: invisibility means simplicity. Duke’s the kind of guy who’s learned all too well never to show all his cards, always keeping a trick or two up his sleeve. If he’s lucky—and he often is—he’ll scrape by with just a few cuts and maybe a black eye he’ll joke about the next day. “You should’ve seen the other guy.”

Lately, though, life’s given him a little too much to joke about.

Somewhere along the line, the wounds and the bruises burrowed a little too deep, leading into ancient catacombs Duke wishes he never knew existed. And suddenly, he’s trembling and kneeling with a knife in his grip that he never remembers being there before, never  _wants_  to remember being there. And while the blood disappears, it never washes off. For a man who’s spent so much of his routine in the peripherals of the public eye, keeping to the shadows and relying on every nook and cranny in this town, he’s never been so fucking terrified of the dark.

Sometimes, he’s not sure when he’s going to be able to resurface.

And then he looks at her.

He wonders exactly when it all began to change—and how the hell did  _he_  get caught up in all of this shit?—but no sense in asking yourself questions you already know the answer to; when the answer’s nestled up on the couch, soft amber hues tracing the contours of her face, strands of hair falling into eyes all aglow.

Like beacons in the night.

“One good thing about the troubles…” Duke pauses, the neck of the wine bottle clinking against crystal, “…at least I got to meet Audrey Parker.”

But the words settle on deaf ears. Before he turns around, she’s already asleep, and it’s back to what it’s always been. What it always will be.

Slipping right under the radar.

“You’re a real piece of work, Crocker,” he says to no one in particular, except maybe down into the last bit of his merlot. At least alcohol’s one thing Duke can count on to listen—man’s only true confidant. “You know, you could really use a vacation.” Most days, he’s only one step away from taking his boat someplace nice and warm—but not too warm—where he can kick back in his old man sweaters, strong cup of coffee in hand while reading the newspaper and filling out crossword puzzles in peace. Not that he’s ever been interested in crossword puzzles, but hell, he’d like the option.

Then again, with his recent luck, he’d probably end up somewhere in the Bermuda Triangle.

He sighs, reaching over to pull up the afghan and tuck Audrey in.

Seems that someone’s got him anchored down for the next forty-something days, anyway.


End file.
